Put a Little Love into my Lonely Soul
by Tobirion
Summary: It's easy to get overwhelmed in a busy world of real jobs, bad dates, meaningless flings and two badly deteriorating relationships. For five friends, however, they take comfort in knowing that the one constant thing in their lives is each other. ASGZC.
1. Zack

_Chapter 1: Zack_

Today, Zack decided, he wasn't any good at multitasking. Or, at least, that was a suitable enough excuse this time; he didn't really have it in him for anything better at the moment.

"I'm cookin', Aer," he said into his phone which was cradled between the side of his face and his shoulder. "Can't we talk tomorrow or something?"

Unfortunately his attempt at getting off the phone was unsuccessful. His girlfriend sighed on the other end but didn't acquiesce, saying gently in a voice that churned Zack's stomach, "I'd really rather talk now."

"…Okay." Guilt shone clearly through his voice and Aerith made a soft, understanding sound. That was part of Zack's problem: she never got _mad _at him, per say—and he felt like an ass for making her so disappointed.

Sometimes Zack figured that Aerith deserved better. Deserved _something_, at least.

"I was talking to my mom," she said, and on the other end Zack could hear the shuffling of papers that meant she was looking through her notes again (and he'd seen the binder full of papers; there were a lot).

Wincing, Zack played dumb as he ducked into the fridge for a bag of vegetables that were close to going bad. "About what?"

"About the wedding, silly!" His girlfriend laughed, light and airy, but there was a strained undercurrent to it. No shit, Zack, the wedding.

The _wedding_.

Laughing back and letting his panic show all over his face since she couldn't see it, Zack managed, "Oh! Haha—of course! What'd Mama Gainsborough say this time?"

"She thinks the best colors would be light pink and maybe a yellow."

Zack listened absently as Aerith excitedly told him the plans she'd been developing. It seemed that everything had to be considered, from the pretty nothings they put on individual tables to the color of the chocolate candies in the goody bags. Quite honestly Zack just didn't care; the fact that this was one of the most uncomfortable conversations he'd had in his life made him doubly anxious to get off the phone and hide from everything until work the next morning.

"When—when were you guys thinking of having this, hehe?" Zack's laughter was weak and he paused in cutting florets of broccoli to re-adjust the phone. It was infinitely easier to focus on the thud of the knife hitting the cutting board rather than Aerith's voice.

"The fall, probably—the changing leaves would be gorgeous, don't you think?" Aerith gave another giggle, but it sounded calculated. "_So_, that means you'll have to finally propose pretty soon."

Zack's mouth twisted in irritation. "Look, Aer—"

"Nope! You say the same thing every time, so what's the point? You'll just have to do it, silly."

Her fake, too-perky voice was starting to piss him off.

"You don't get it, Aerith. I just—_ow_!"

In his frustration he'd nicked himself with the knife. Zack let out a few over-exaggerated, whiny puppylike noises and moved to the sink, crying into the phone, "I cut myself!"

If Aerith was annoyed at her lost chance she didn't show it, cooing at him over the phone and asking if he was okay. It was just a small cut; he ran some water over it and pressed a dish towel to his palm, milking the situation for all it was worth.

"I need to go clean this and finish up my dinner, babe," he said softly once the excitement had died down a bit. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"…Okay." It was clear Aerith didn't want to let him escape but didn't have the energy to push it further today. "Bye, Zack."

"Bye, beautiful."

Zack ended the call and sagged against the counter, idly putting pressure on his hand but not really paying attention to it. He felt so goddamn bad about it, but…

Aerith came from a different sort of family than his own. She wanted to be married, be a mom, and raise her kids in an idyllic suburban life full of bliss and, what, book readings and knitting clubs? Zack didn't hold it against her; that was an awesome life, no worse than any other kind of life. Her family was very religious, which was by no means bad but certainly different—hell, they didn't even live together after a full eight years of dating.

They'd met when they were both 19, at college here in the city. They were the kind of couple that everyone else was jealous of, who never fought and seemed destined to start a family right after graduation or, heck, maybe even before. Now, at 27, Aerith was past the point of frustration (and understandably so—if Zack had been the one dating a guy that for some reason wasn't proposing after all this time he'd dump his ass).

The thing was, Zack didn't know if he was equipped to give her the life she'd always wanted. The worst part was that he didn't know why; he didn't know _why _he couldn't propose to Aerith, _why_ he couldn't commit. Maybe kids weren't exactly his goal but he could deal—he could be a great dad, everyone said so. Kids were great. He could have a wife, especially a gorgeous, kind, sweet one like Aerith who he'd been crazy in love with for so long. He could do it.

Except he couldn't.

Something was holding him back. Frankly, it just wasn't fair to Aerith—if he was the asshole who couldn't give her what she needed then he should let her go get it from someone who could, but he was a selfish jerk and didn't want to do that either.

Heaving a great sigh, Zack pushed off the counter and went to find a band-aid. This was another day with a real conversation about the wedding and his lack of a proposal avoided, but he obviously couldn't do this forever.

He ate his dinner alone in front of the TV and eventually nodded off on the armrest in the middle of debating what to do about Aerith. The repetitive laugh track of some late-night sitcom woke him up and he stumbled upstairs into bed.

Zack went to bed feeling miserable.

He woke up, however, with a glimmer of hope in his stomach. It only grew as the day went on. It was Tuesday, and that meant "guys' night" (as Aerith called it) was this evening.

Almost every Tuesday for years Zack had been meeting his best friends for cards, food, talk, video games, and more. They usually met at one of two houses—that of his oldest friend Sephiroth, or a man named Genesis. It was actually pretty awesome; in the frenzy of life in the city and the stress of work and relationships there was always a pause, a respite, a safe space with people who completed Zack in ways he hadn't known he needed.

"G'morning!" He said loudly when he got to work, slapping his hand down on the desk of the man whose cubicle was next to his. Vincent Valentine was his name, and he looked half-dead, nearly spilling his coffee all over his computer in surprise.

Zack's colleague turned sleepy, glaring eyes upward. "It's Tuesday, isn't it?"

"Yessir." With one of his signature cheeky smiles (he knew his happiness could get a little annoying on Tuesdays, but hey, sue him, he was going to hang out with the best people _ever_) Zack ducked into his own cubicle to start his computer, but stuck his head over the divider after doing so. "If you didn't know what day it is, why are you here?"

Vincent seemed to have nodded off on his arms, however, and didn't answer.

The funny thing was, Zack mused after lunchtime, going over color swatches in a board meeting, he worked at a marketing firm. It was his job to have a deep understanding of people, to know what they wanted and needed in order to sell them things. It confused him, then, why he couldn't figure out what _he _wanted.

That's what he had his good friends for, though—they'd help him figure it out. He couldn't wait.

At the end of the day he bade his co-workers goodbye (Vincent telling him to say hi to Genesis for him and throwing in a quick _if-you-see-my-favorite-muffin-at-the-bakery-you-vi sit-every-morning-can-you-get-me-one-for-tomorrow) _ and headed back to his apartment. His buddy Cloud lived in the same building and sometimes they hitched a ride together to that week's meetingplace but Cloud had texted him earlier that day saying he was going over to Genesis' earlier than usual.

Figuring he knew why that was, Zack didn't ask for details and drove over by himself. Five minutes to eight he was knocking at Genesis Rhapsodos' front door, peering in the glass and grinning at his other friend, Angeal, who was hurrying to the door to let him in.

"Hey," Angeal murmured as he opened the door, pulling the younger man into a rough hug.

"Hey yourself," Zack answered playfully, smacking Angeal's hips with his hands. He gave him a big, goofy kiss on the cheek and ambled further inside to greet the rest of his friends. Sephiroth hadn't yet arrived but Cloud was perched on his favorite chair, happily munching on some cookies or something Genesis must have pushed on him. The blond beamed at Zack and waved a hand, while Genesis stuck his head in from the kitchen and smiled as well.

Their crew was pretty small but fit them all just right, or at least Zack liked to think so. He never felt smothered or lacking at least; things were kind of just, well, fantastic, despite all their individual dysfunctions and issues. That didn't matter when they were together.

He had known Sephiroth Crescent the longest. They went to the same school as children back in Gongaga, their hometown. Sephiroth, although a year older, lived down the street and wasn't too cool to hang out with him. When Sephiroth ended eighth grade his family moved to Midgar for high school. Zack moved to Midgar to go to college five years later but looked him up; they reconnected like no time had passed at all. Sephiroth also introduced him to Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos, guys both a year older than Seph that he'd met at his own college, a fancy private school on the other side of town.

They were all done college now—the four of them had finished graduate school more or less together as well, who would've thought—and were on with their real lives, but they had stayed together after all this time, which was awesome. About four years ago they'd met Cloud Strife who actually lived in an apartment with his girlfriend, Tifa, a few floors above Zack but they hadn't known that for a while; the guy met Genesis first, occasionally delivering books to the bookstore Genesis ran in the swanky part of town.

Zack, known for slacking on his on job, hung out at the bookstore one day after calling in 'sick' and met the dude Genesis casually mentioned every now and again and bit by bit Cloud had been merged into their little group. He was a year younger than Zack, three younger than Angeal and Genesis and it had taken him some time to warm up to them but these days Zack felt like their relationship was damn near perfect.

A whole lot better than his deteriorating one with Aerith, anyway.

Sephiroth arrived around 8:15, complaining about traffic. He was an intimidating man, tall and sporting ridiculous silver hair that went down past his ass that he somehow managed to pull off spectacularly. He was quiet, kind of awkward and incredibly blunt, balancing perfectly with Genesis' and Zack's loud personalities and Angeal's tendency to worry. Zack was happy to see him. He waved from the couch on which he was sitting and enjoying a beer. Their eyes met across the room, conveying an entire conversation, and then Zack settled back into his seat, pleased as punch. This was the life.

Soon they were digging in to the large dish of baked ziti Genesis had made—true to point Sephiroth was eating like it was his last meal. The man couldn't cook and relied mostly on takeout and whatever his friends could prepare themselves and put in his fridge for him.

Angeal was telling a story about his last date, a customer of his who had been trying to buy watermelon seeds when they'd struck up conversation. Unfortunately for Angeal it hadn't gone very well (like most of his dates, truthfully) and they all made the appropriate noises of concern and promised to do bro-things like get beers and go to a game.

Genesis, relaxing on a couch opposite Zack's next to Sephiroth and resting his feet against the man's thigh, nudged him. "What about you?" he teased. "Got a hot date lined up?"

There was a line of dark, purpling hickeys on the redhead's neck that were insufficiently covered by the scarf he'd haphazardly thrown on; everyone was very carefully not commenting.

Sephiroth stared at him blankly. "No, of course not."

"Boo."

When questioned about Tifa Cloud just grunted and stared at his lap.

After skirting the uncomfortable questions about each other's love lives (Zack said delicately that he and Aerith were 'good' when Sephiroth inquired, not having screwed up enough courage yet), they finished eating and Genesis broke out the stash of board games he kept in a cabinet.

Zack was struck at some point an hour or so later by just how _comfortable_ they all were, especially when Zack compared it to his own experience with Aerith these days. They were all loose and simply enjoying each other's company. Cloud and Sephiroth weren't as uptight as usual and were laughing. The dark fever behind Genesis' eyes they'd seen grow in the past months was gone; he seemed content. Angeal smiled warmly at all of them, looking like there was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be, like he was beyond blessed just to know them.

And speaking of Aerith…

"Hey, guys," he said, knocking Genesis's piece off the board on some game he forgot the name and sending him home, "I was talkin' to Aerith today."

They went quiet and looked at him curiously. "I was thinking," he continued, feeling a bit of nervousness flutter in his stomach even though there was nothing to fear—not with these four. "It might be time to finally…well, propose."

If Zack had been expecting an excited, encouraging reaction, he didn't get it. Cloud's eyes went wide and he hid his grimace behind his beer, Sephiroth's mouth thinned, Angeal looked like he was having trouble processing what Zack had said, and Genesis looked generally displeased.

"She's getting really fed up," he continued, smiling even though he wasn't feeling it. "And I don't blame her…y'know?"

The four of them were exchanging looks—what the hell did that mean?

"I mean," Zack laughed, "We've been together for eight years! It makes sense, right?"

"Yeah," Cloud said finally after no one else offered anything, "I…guess it does. That's great, Zack." He smiled, but it looked strained.

"…Aww," Zack moaned, sagging in defeat, "C'mon guys. I need you to be happy for me. I don't really wanna do it, you know?"

That got them finally reacting. "So don't?" Genesis prompted.

"But it's the right thing to do, I think."

Nobody could think of anything great to say for a while—they mostly shrugged at each other and tried to think. "Give me a reason why you don't think I should do it," Zack eventually asked Genesis, since he seemed to be the one most opposed to the idea (or the only one willing to vocalize it, at least).

The redhead looked flummoxed. "I…just don't think you should," he said, and he sounded confused even to his own ears.

"Same," Cloud quickly added. "I mean, if you think you should, then maybe you _should_…but it's weird."

"Thanks for that piece of brilliance, Spike," Zack muttered, and Cloud scowled.

"We'd be friends with a married man," Angeal joked, "never see you again."

Sephiroth was quiet—these kinds of words had never been his strong suit. His expression told Zack about the same, however.

Giving up, the subject was changed to everyone's relief, but the rest of the evening was undoubtedly dampened. They played more games, ate dessert (Cloud and Genesis force-feeding Angeal chocolate cake with their fingers when the man said something about a diet) and parted just before midnight.

Zack figured he should have been angrier at his friends. They weren't being supportive and couldn't even give him a decent answer—he was more confused now than he had been on the phone earlier. He wasn't mad, however; he could understand, because, quite honestly—he was bummed too. He didn't want anything to change between him and his best friends. He didn't want to propose and didn't want to be a married man despite his love he had, or did have, for his girlfriend.

The worst part was that he was still no closer to figuring out why.


	2. Sephiroth

_Chapter 2: Sephiroth_

Sephiroth was, at least compared to the people he knew, an extraordinarily graceful man. Part of this was probably due to the years of ballet he endured as a kid. In the early morning, however, immediately post-waking, he was embarrassingly clumsy. This morning his coffee mug slipped from his fingers on his way to the table to eat his breakfast, shattering with a loud sound that echoed in the emptiness of his small house.

He stared at it, still half-asleep, then went to grab the mop.

Luckily Sephiroth was more awake by the time he finished cleaning the floor, but with the monotonous sounds of clinking porcelain in the dust pan and the swish of the mop came the strange self-awareness that came with being utterly alone. Self-conscious for reasons he couldn't explain and now without coffee, he sat and quietly ate his cereal and toast, now soggy and cold.

He didn't like living by himself in this house. He had gotten it from his uncle Gast after he died a few years ago. His uncle was the last one in his family he was in contact with, his mom having died of illness a year after moving to Midgar when he was fourteen and his father, Hojo, leaving him soon after. He had been in high school at the time but Gast had pushed him to continue his schooling and go to college.

At any rate the man's house was now his, but he didn't especially like it. It wasn't very big but it was indeed a house on the outskirts of the city, one that didn't share walls with others or have windows that had to be barred and triple-locked. Most of his friends lived in apartments which he almost would have preferred—he took very well to college dorm life back in the day.

His neighbors were still nameless to him after years here. They were mostly upper-middle class families with small children, not his type of crowd. He didn't date generally, not seeing the need (and why would he? As far as he was concerned he didn't need anyone other than his four friends, much less a romantic partner), but that meant that he relied on friends for most social interactions and when he wasn't with his friends, well, he dragged a little bit. He much preferred when his friends were over or when he was out in the city doing something… as long as that something wasn't work.

Sephiroth was not fond of his job. This morning, like most mornings, his secretary Luxiere greeted him with a strained smile and a sheaf of papers he had to review before noon. "Good morning, Sir," he said, looking tired.

"Morning," Sephiroth replied, sounding equally as exhausted. He took the papers and entered his office, a cramped space with barely enough room for all of his necessary things and a chair opposite the desk for visitors. A friend of his, Reeve, used to share the office with him before realizing that such a soul-sucking company like ShinRa Electric Power Company didn't deserve him. Reeve now spent his days doing something in urban development for the city, designing parks and installing fountains and the like.

Sephiroth was still stuck with the same stain in the ceiling and the same headaches from his boss, Heidegger, but at least there was a bit more legroom with Reeve gone. He didn't make nearly enough with this job to afford his house, but Gast and other wealthy relatives, dead or otherwise, had left him with quite a bit of money—enough that he'd never have to worry about the house, at any rate.

That was probably the reason he stayed; he wasn't so dumb that he'd turn down a more-or-less free place to live. Still, with few acquaintances left at work and a weak social life he was terribly lonely.

Tuesdays, however, were a different story. He still had to go to his thankless, stressful job but in the evening he was able to hang with the men who completed him—it was the highlight of his week, to be perfectly honest. The anticipation made Mondays, like today, extra painful.

Halfway through a wilted and unsatisfying salad in his office at lunchtime his phone lit up with a call from his best friend, who called him every few days around this time since he knew Sephiroth was bored out of his mind.

"Angeal," he greeted warmly, fiddling with his fork and leaning back far into his seat, letting his whole body relax when the older man's voice hit his ears from the other end.

"Good afternoon," he said. Angeal was slightly out of breath—Sephiroth could imagine him hoisting boxes of soil or scrubbing the floor of his tiny flower shop just before going behind the counter and giving him a ring.

By his friend's tone of voice Sephiroth could tell he was excited about the next day as well. He sounded a bit off though, and Sephiroth, who was closer to Angeal than anyone else he could name, was instantly able to tell.

Murmuring into the phone and furrowing his brows, crossing his legs on top of the desk, Sephiroth asked, "Are you alright?"

Laughter was the answer at first. "How'd you know?" Angeal chuckled, then sobered. "I'm okay, I think."

"You think?" When Angeal didn't answer Sephiroth tried again. "Is it Zack?"

When Sephiroth had moved to Midgar at the beginning of high school he'd been lost for quite some time, leaving his childhood friends, one of them Zack Fair, behind. He wasn't in contact with most of his high school friends these days but on his very first day at Midgar U he'd met Angeal Hewley, who was doing some community service on the outskirts of their campus with his fraternity. He had been planting a tree, one native to the Gongaga region, in fact; they'd had something of a conversation about it and before Sephiroth knew what was happening he was being invited over to the older boy's dorm for food.

That was when he met Genesis Rhapsodos, who was sometimes a pain in Sephiroth's ass but always a beloved one—he and Angeal had grown up in the same town, basically neighbors. To his great delight Zack had shown up the next year, all grown up and as tall as he was.

He was a lucky guy, truth be told; he never thought that he'd be part of such a close group, and he especially never thought that he'd be able to read someone as easily as he could read Angeal.

"…Yeah," the man sighed. "It is, I suppose."

Sephiroth stayed quiet, letting Angeal sort out his thoughts, but eventually he had to prompt, "Are you unhappy with his plan to propose to Aerith?"

"…No, of course not." The answer was hesitant.

"I can tell when you're lying, Ang."

Angeal sighed, a smile in his voice. "I don't know. It's confusing. I should be happy for him—Gaia knows we've always said he'll be the one to get married first—but I don't want to…give him up, you know?"

"I understand." The thought of Zack, the little boy who used to show him the frogs he hunted in the swamp taking the final step with Aerith made something twist painfully inside. It was probably even worse for Angeal; he and Zack were nearly inseparable. Angeal, more than the rest of them, was Zack's outlet for his frustrations and problems with his girlfriend.

Their conversation wound down into idle small talk, both of their spirits dampened by the thought of Zack's plans. When saying goodbye Sephiroth said that he'd see his friend the next day and frowned as he slid his phone back into his pocket. It wasn't quite jealousy, he figured—maybe something closer to possessiveness—the idea of _any _of his friends, not just Zack, getting hitched was unappealing.

Well, hey. He was 28—he was reaching that point of life, he supposed. Should have expected this sooner.

Luxiere's sandy head popped into his doorway. "You have a call from Scarlet," he said with a wince. Just barely suppressing a sigh, Sephiroth picked up the receiver, leaving the issue of Zack's proposal alone for a while.

That evening Sephiroth was pleased to find two neatly stacked plastic Tupperware tubs in his fridge. They either hadn't been there this morning or he'd been too tired at the time to notice them. He was a pathetic cook; Genesis must have snuck the leftovers there when he wasn't around. A note was stuck to the lid of the one on top: _'Because you're hopeless in the kitchen—if you want more, let me know. We'll make it a date.' _There was a scribbled heart and no signature, but he knew who left it.

Snorting at the thought of all the _actual_ dates Genesis went on, Sephiroth microwaved the food and sat down to watch a cooking program (he was always trying). Genesis hadn't always been this way, promiscuous and almost scarily nihilistic; he was content for years with his longtime girlfriend, Yuffie. He was a quiet shop owner living a quiet life of subdued glitz and glam, but these days he had a different girl on his arm every week and was worrying them. Nothing was "enough" for him apparently—he wanted more, but of what, none of them were sure.

He was almost done his food when someone knocked on his door, sharp and fast. Sephiroth set his bowl down on the coffee table, turned the TV off and opened the wooden door, peering out of the glass storm door beyond it.

Cloud Strife was on his doorstep, looking nervous. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder. Alarmed, Sephiroth opened the door fully but Cloud didn't come in. He shifted from one foot to the other on the welcome mat, wringing his hands.

"Seph," he said finally, "Uh, hey."

Sticking his head out Sephiroth spotted Cloud's motorcycle in his driveway carefully parked beside his car. "Are you alright?" he asked. "Please come in."

"I wanted to know if I could stay the night," Cloud said, stubbornly not moving. "Tifa and I had a pretty bad fight."

"Of course you can."

Cloud finally moved inside, both thanking him and apologizing profusely at the same time. "I would've gone to Zack's, of course," he was saying, looking around nervously like it was his first time over Sephiroth's house, "but she would've come up and found me. Your address is the only one she doesn't know since it's so far out of town."

"Sounds pretty bad then," Sephiroth offered, unsure what to say. He and Cloud had always been drawn to each other, being extremely similar in a lot of ways. This, unfortunately, included their awkwardness with words—when it was just the two of them conversation could get a little stilted sometimes, not that they necessarily needed it; they got on just fine without.

Cloud just shrugged in response and dumped his backpack on the couch. "Oh," Sephiroth said, "Actually, I have a guest room."

"You do?"

"Yes." He gestured for the younger man to follow him and led him upstairs and to a door down the hall that was always shut. Since inheriting the house from Gast Sephiroth had never had anyone sleep over, not including someone being too drunk to drive home or something similar. It was weird poking his head into the stuffy room and checking it out but he felt kind of proud; it was nice to be able to take care of someone in such a way.

He handed Cloud clean sheets from a closet in the hallway and bade him goodnight. Cloud's hand covered his, not retreating with the sheets just yet and looked up with big, earnest blue eyes.

"Thank you, Seph," he said quietly.

The amount of gratitude and thanks Cloud was trying to convey—and not just for letting him sleep over; for not pressing him about Tifa, too—was easy for Sephiroth to recognize.

Sephiroth smiled and twisted his fingers tightly with Cloud's for a brief moment. "You're welcome," he answered softly.

Cloud turned and disappeared and, not knowing what else to do, Sephiroth went to bed.

* * *

The next morning Sephiroth was surprised to find Cloud snoozing away peacefully on his downstairs couch—one, because he could have sworn he'd put Cloud to bed upstairs the night before, and two, because he'd stubbed his toe on a chair in the kitchen ten minutes earlier and knocked it down with a bang he would have sworn woke the neighbors.

He had his alarm clock plugged in on the coffee table, however, and looked comfy enough. He was actually pretty adorable, curled up with the blanket he usually kept folded in a cabinet in another room pulled up to his ears. Sephiroth paused in walking out the door to fix the man's blanket, as it was helplessly tangled, and went to work confident Cloud could be trusted to not burn the place down and lock up behind him after he left.

That morning he greeted Luxiere with a warm, "Good morning, Luxiere," and the poor man stared at him in shock. Sephiroth almost caught himself humming, bouncing his knee under the desk and whizzing through his work at a faster pace than usual.

As expected, around lunchtime his friend called, more apologies spilling through the speakers. "Stop apologizing," Sephiroth told him, smiling for once as he crafted an email to one of his superiors, "You are always welcome at my place—you should know that."

Humbled, Cloud fell quiet. After a moment he hesitantly began, "So, you can say no, but, uh… I was wondering if I could use your couch again tonight? Tifa's not answering my calls and I don't want to just show up. I can stay at Angeal's or Genesis's if you're busy or—"

"Shut up," Sephiroth said flatly, and Cloud immediately subsided. "You can stay as long as you need to."

Cloud laughed then, the familiar bright sound. Sheepishly he murmured, "Thanks, Seph. I'll be over sometime after work then."

"Alright."

True to his word Cloud knocked on his door three hours before the rest of their friends were due looking tired but less harried than he had the day before. Sephiroth, in the middle of getting rid of the week's take-out containers and clutter that had accumulated, greeted him warmly.

"Let me help," Cloud said. He waved away Sephiroth's assurances that he didn't need any and began straightening up the couch where he had slept the night before.

Curiously, Sephiroth asked him, "Why did you sleep on the couch?"

"You've got bed bugs in the guest room."

"Oh." Sephiroth, alarmed, glanced around like his entire house was contaminated. He didn't know the first thing about exterminating such a pest, and neither did Cloud judging by the clueless look he was giving him. "Sorry."

Shrugging, Cloud replied, "It's alright. I love your couch anyway."

Together they spruced up Sephiroth's house, opening windows to let in the spring air. When they met at this house, instead of Genesis's, they ordered out instead of cooking. Cloud took the liberty of ordering pizza and they watched one of Sephiroth's favorite cooking shows together as they waited for everyone else to arrive. Cloud, smiling softly to himself every time Sephiroth took notes on a writing pad in the coffee table's drawer just for the occasion, looked a deal happier than Sephiroth could remember him being in a long time.

Genesis arrived first, at the same time as the pizza. When they opened the front door Genesis had the pizzas in his hand, already having paid and tipped the delivery boy, who was climbing back into his car at the end of the driveway. Waving away their feeble protests he strode inside and placed them down, putting his hands on his hips as he looked around.

"It looks nice in here," he noted. "See, Sephiroth?" He turned around, an obnoxious grin on his face, "What a difference having a girlfriend around would make. I always told you."

Sporting identical scowls Cloud said, "I'm just sleeping on his couch" and Sephiroth grunted, "I don't need a girlfriend."

"_Touchy_." The redhead flopped down onto the couch, feet up on the table, and held out an arm with a meaningful look in Cloud's direction. Cloud looked disgruntled still but sat next to Genesis anyway, getting pulled closer via Genesis' arm slung around his shoulders. Sephiroth saw Cloud glance at Genesis' neck—this week the bruises were fading, which meant he at least hadn't hooked up with a girl the night before—before resting his head on the man's shoulder.

Angeal was next to arrive, smiling widely at the two more or less cuddling on the couch before darting into the kitchen to wash the dirt from work out from under his fingernails.

"Zack might be a little late," Cloud said after a few minutes of them making small talk and staring hungrily at the boxes of pizza which were filling Sephiroth's small home with the smell of bubbling cheese and bacon—Sephiroth's personal favorite.

"Why?"

"He's doin' something for me," was the evasive answer.

They gave him another ten minutes and then broke into the pizza, unable to wait—Sephiroth had a slice and a half in his stomach before Angeal had even finished dabbing at the grease on his slice with a napkin.

"So what's up with Tifa?" Genesis asked, having let go of Cloud to eat his dinner but still sitting flush against his side.

Predictably Cloud looked like he didn't want to talk about it. "More of the usual, I guess. How was work, Seph?"

After another quarter-hour Zack finally showed up, making a big show out of looking utterly exhausted. "Cloud," he panted as soon as he was inside, hands on his knees, "You have no idea what I went through to get this. You so owe—_hey_!" He tossed the duffel bag over his shoulder at Cloud and looked accusingly at the group, "You guys started eating without me!"

"Sorry," Sephiroth said, but he didn't sound very apologetic.

Zack got his own plate and sat down between Sephiroth and Angeal. "I mostly grabbed the basic stuff. I didn't know your bedroom was so scary."

"Tell me about it," Cloud murmured, tucking the duffel bag—which Sephiroth now assumed was full of his clothes that Zack had recovered from his apartment—neatly in a corner.

Conversation turned to the date Angeal had lined up for that Friday, all of them egging him on. Genesis apparently had a new shipment of books coming in the next day that he was excited about, and Zack—carefully skirting the topic of his impending proposal to Aerith—talked about something funny that had happened at work that day.

Sephiroth watched them all interact, happy and content under his roof, and he realized, without much shock, that he loved—no _adored_—these four men. These walls had life when they were here, their voices filling the empty space that he hated so much. The best part, he mused, was that at the end of the evening the house wouldn't be even quieter, even more lifeless than usual as if in defiance to him livening it up for a few hours—Cloud would be here, and the next morning he would wake to find him comfortably snoozing on his couch again, his presence chasing away any melancholy.

It was incredibly comforting.

Smiling at his friends and tucking into another slice of pizza Sephiroth knew that he was a very lucky man indeed.


	3. Genesis

_Chapter three: Genesis_

Luckily for Genesis, Angeal had always been a light sleeper. A well-placed pebble thrown at the window had the lights inside his friend's bedroom turning on after just a few seconds. A few tense moments passed, Genesis kneeling in the cold dirt with small, sharp rocks digging into the skin of his knees. Then the window was pushed open, Angeal giving it a stubborn smack when it got stuck, as it tended to do, about a third of the way up.

Emerging into the night air and squinting from both sleep and in an attempt to spot anything in the darkness Angeal whispered, "Gen?"

Standing up fully, Genesis waved. "Come let me in," he hissed back.

The window shut and after what felt like forever, shivering as he was in his cotton pajamas, barefoot, the front door to the modest Hewley home inched open, slowly as to avoid the creaking of hinges long in need of an oil.

Genesis quickly moved up the stairs of the front porch, wincing when one gave a particularly loud groan, and let out a breathy sigh of relief when Angeal grabbed his hand and tugged him inside, shutting the door firmly.

"C'mon," he murmured, pulling him upstairs and—most importantly—not asking him why he was here at two in the morning. At least, not yet, anyway.

Genesis fumbled his way up the stairs, clumsy and numb from the cold, ignoring Angeal as he sat down on his bed and moving purposefully instead to the bathroom where he turned on the shower.

"Can I borrow some clothes?" he asked quietly.

Angeal was ahead of him though and when Genesis turned around Angeal was already holding out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Are you going to need help?" he asked. His eyes flickered from Genesis to the bruise on his cheekbone, darkening even as they spoke. The skin was split just above it, a small amount of drying blood smeared across his face towards his nose.

"No," Genesis assured him.

When he emerged from the bathroom a time later Angeal was dozing on his bed, the main light off but his desk lamp now on, giving a corner of the room a muted, golden glow. His homework was everywhere but looked completed; Genesis smiled to himself before crawling into bed beside him.

"You alright?" Angeal asked sleepily, shifting lethargically as he moved to accommodate another person in his small twin bed. He cracked open an eye to inspect Genesis' cheek, now covered with a few band-aids he'd found in the cabinet over the sink.

"Fine," the slightly older teen answered, rolling onto his back and staring at Angeal's ceiling. The house was still, Mrs. Hewley undoubtedly sleeping peacefully a few rooms over. Angeal, always such a good friend, did his best to stay alert. He waited quietly for Genesis to talk to him but the redhead stayed mute and looking at the ceiling wasn't providing quite enough stimulation. His yawns grew more numerous and soon he had drifted off again.

Genesis let him sleep. His cheek throbbed still but felt better than it had before his shower. Carefully resting the good side of his face against Angeal's shoulder Genesis' eyes, narrowed and critical, swept over his friend's room.

"We've got to get out of here," he whispered after a time. The rise and fall of Angeal's chest was rhythmic, threatening to lull him into sleep, but he was angry—he was _angry—_and quite unable to relax.

"I hate it here," he continued quietly, turning his head so he could say his soft, blasphemous words into his friend's ear, his lips and breath brushing the soft shell of it. "You and I—we're getting the hell out of here as soon as we're old enough, do you hear me?"

His arm wound around Angeal's waist, but whether it was because he was feeling possessive and underscoring his point about them going together or because he needed a hug remained uncertain. Genesis had a big, but simple, dream: he and Angeal were going to flee Banora—flee the small-town mentality, flee the unsavory crowd of gossiping kids, abusive parents and people frustrated with a hard life in the country—and go somewhere better, go to a better life.

All Genesis really needed was his best friend; he was confident that, when they left, they would end up just fine. Someday they'd both get married and have nice houses and even if they didn't they'd still have each other—their lives would be safe and comfortable. That is what Genesis desired, both for himself but also for his friend, more than anything.

"I hear you," Angeal whispered, voice thick with drowsiness. Genesis had thought he was totally asleep but didn't mind that he had been heard. Wordlessly he pulled the blankets up a little higher around them both and closed his eyes.

* * *

When Genesis opened his eyes on an irritatingly bright, annoyingly perfect Tuesday morning his stomach dropped. It was a familiar sensation in fact, as was the view; a head of rich dark hair on the pillow next to his.

Unfortunately the hair belonged to a virtual stranger and that meant he had to begin his usual ritual, one that he had perfected over the years and could probably do, quite frankly, with his eyes closed. If there was anything he had learned from his parents, after all, it was class.

He quietly got out of bed, put on some clothes and went downstairs to make breakfast. He was charming. He flirted a little and enjoyed the blush and smiles he got for his attentiveness.

He saw the girl that he woke up in bed beside out with _style_. Still, when the door shut and he eventually sagged against the door he was forced to confront the undeniable truth that a one-night stand was still a one-night stand and that he felt a little more hollow and used-up every time someone walked out his front door. Now very much alone and sore from a full night of sex and without any of the good feelings that usually come with it, Genesis had no choice but to get ready for work.

Luckily for him, Genesis greatly enjoyed his job. At his small bookstore, _Rhapsodize_, he felt calm and safe. It was a hip and fun place popular with the local college crowd but had enough class and substance to appeal to their professors as well. There were few things in life that Genesis truly enjoyed lately but this day he had both: work and the promise of seeing his favorite people that evening (although, quite truthfully, lately even that had been dampened: he was still unhappy with Zack's decision to propose to his girlfriend).

Nevertheless he still felt antsy for reasons he didn't know. It had been a full week since he had last seen (or spoke) to any of his friends. He itched, and evidently cute, serious little Sarah from the night before hadn't been enough to make that go away.

Well, no matter—he could deal for one day at least.

Work this particular Tuesday was typical. He flirted with some of the female customers because it was just in his nature, catalogued books, made a few purchases for his stock and even lent a few titles out. He was by no means a public library but had a small selection of borrowable materials, mostly big texts from Russian authors that the hipsters at Midgar U could appreciate.

He was arranging magazines on a display shelf when he felt a man slide up next to him. Unperturbed and presuming he was just looking at a magazine Genesis ignored him—that is, until a hand landed on his forearm, stopping him from putting the newest issue of _Vogue _in its place.

A vivid redhead he vaguely remembered coming in earlier gave him a cocky smile. "Hey, Mr. Rhapsodos," he said.

Genesis perked up at the name his college-aged customers usually called him and gave the kid his attention, noting that the hand on his arm hadn't been moved. The young man had a pair of goggles keeping his hair out of his face and a scarf around his neck that was probably made out of some organic, vegan, ethically-harvested cloth. He asked with a grin, "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"…Yes," Genesis said slowly, confused. "I'm meeting a group of friends around dinnertime. We do this every week."

He was unsure why he was giving away this much information.

The grip on his arm slid down, the man loosely circling his wrist with two fingers.

"That's a shame, yo."

Genesis, puzzled, asked, "Why?"

The man shrugged one thin shoulder. "I come here pretty often, and you usually look like you're havin' a lot more fun."

Genesis frowned. The kid oozed cockiness, from the coy smile to the narrowed green eyes, and Genesis was surprised because he was generally devastatingly attracted to that kind of personality—in the women he dated, anyway. That was Angeal when he was feeling it, Zack when he was being a brat, Sephiroth in one of his slightly-sadistic and teasing moods and even rarely Cloud, though Genesis often found his shyer, quieter disposition just as darling.

"I suppose I'm having something of a bad day," Genesis admitted, and then added: "or week, or maybe month." He shrugged and gently pulled his wrist away, slotting the last few magazines into their correct spots.

"I could help," the man said, eyes lighting up. "I've got a free afternoon—no class until eight-thirty. We could do something, yo. Like, until your friends show up."

Genesis paused in his work, dumbfounded. "Pardon me—_who _are you?"

"Reno." The kid stuck out a hand, shifting around the weight of his backpack. Genesis shook it.

"You want to—" He shook his head, exasperated, "—_do _something. Do what?"

Reno just raised an eyebrow, looking at Genesis like he was slow.

Which he evidently was. Genesis stepped back suddenly as he realized he was being propositioned—by a man, no less! Once or twice men had flirted with him before (he "gave off that vibe" sometimes, according to Zack) but Genesis had always politely indicated that he wasn't interested and happily gone on with his life.

He knew Sephiroth had dated a boy back in high school after moving to Midgar, but it was short-lived and they didn't really talk about it; Sephiroth dabbled in exclusively women after that before swearing off dating entirely. Angeal had a few hilarious stories involving getting stoned and fucked by his old group of buddies back in college. He didn't know about Zack, but Cloud had been dating Tifa since the age of 15.

His first instinct was to refuse because he simply didn't sleep with or date men, but something about his latest funk was bringing him dangerously close to 'fuck it' territory. Besides, he really was the kind of guy who tried everything once; this Reno, with his wandering hands and attitude, was something he supposed he wouldn't mind trying.

"Hm," Genesis said, masking any nervousness he may have felt and feigning his usual cool, "I wasn't joking about my friends coming by later—you'll have to be gone by then."

Reno readily agreed, the gauges in his earlobes swinging with the enthusiasm of his nod. They agreed to meet up again at the end of the day and Reno dragged his laptop over to a table in the corner by an outlet and settled in for the long haul.

The rest of the afternoon was almost overwhelming. Occasionally their eyes would meet, Genesis flitting around and doing his normal duties and Reno doing homework and powering through cups of coffee. Genesis, while definitely interested and amused at himself for getting into something so far out of his comfort zone, couldn't help a rush of nervousness and anxiety from zinging through them when he met that green gaze.

He wanted to call Angeal quickly and ask for pointers, reassurance, anything—was this a good idea? Something held him back though, and it wasn't just that Angeal's experience with men was extremely limited and that he'd probably hang up on him mid-call out of embarrassment. Sephiroth and Cloud, while meaning well, were no good with advice, and Zack knew them all intimately and could probably explain the situation to him objectively, but…

It was unnerving to realize that he didn't want his friends to know about this. As to _why_ he wasn't completely sure—but something inside him felt bad, felt like he was betraying his friends, perhaps.

…Nonsense. He resolved himself to bringing the kid home, fucking him (or maybe it would be the other way around—he didn't exactly know how these things worked and he didn't really care), and then getting rid of him before the guys showed up. He'd spill the beans someday years from now when they were all drunk and it would be hilarious.

Resolved, he finished the rest of his shift without needing to call anyone for help. He closed the shop at six and made awkward small talk with Reno as they walked around the block to the back of the shop where Genesis parked his car.

"Just so I know," he said as he started the engine, "how old are you?"

Reno was relaxed, his legs up on the dash already as he rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. "25," he said, after a long drag.

A year younger than Cloud, then. Strange.

Genesis didn't live as far out of the city as Sephiroth did, but his abode was much larger. Sephiroth always complained that his own small house was too big for just himself—he thus turned up his nose at Genesis' sprawling, artfully decorated home. Genesis had grown up in a mansion in Banora, however, on a huge, wealthy property; to him, despite having many extra, unused rooms, it was downright cozy.

Reno whistled when he saw it, dropping the act and looking like an overwhelmed grad student for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Genesis asked.

"Fuck yes," was the reply, and then Genesis was being pushed against his front door, a fellow man's mouth crushed against his. They managed to get the door open and moved inside and upstairs. A few years ago this would have been far too fast for him but he'd had sex before with women at clubs without even getting their names. This he could handle.

"Remember," Genesis panted as he helped Reno get his shirt off, "You have to be gone by seven forty-five at the latest."

"Roger, Captain," Reno drawled, and sent him a smile so genuine it made the last of the butterflies in Genesis' stomach disappear.

As it turned out sex with a man wasn't terribly different from sex with a woman. Granted, Genesis ended up being the penetrative partner, but it wasn't nearly bad enough that he would swear to never have a repeat performance—in fact, Genesis mused, he might even want to try this again with someone else. He did discover that giving head was much harder than he had originally anticipated and that bony hipster college students weren't his ideal partners.

Still, much to his surprise it was fun, and it was good. So good, in fact, they did it twice, and then Reno dragged him to the shower to fool around some more.

In a way it was incredibly liberating, this new experience. He knew it as well as his friends did—he was going downhill, had been for quite a while. Degrading, perhaps. For a brief moment however (and maybe even _this_ moment, with his legs trembling as he leant back against the wall of his shower, a young man on his knees before him) he felt, well, damn fine.

But then, rather abruptly, he was shocked back into reality. His doorbell rang.

"Oh fuck!" they both said at the same time.

Wide-eyed Genesis stumbled out of the shower and into his bedroom. He threw on his discarded clothes and willed his erection away as he turned back to see Reno getting dressed too, looking quite sheepish.

"Whoops," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Apologies, yo—I didn't realize the time."

"…It's okay," Genesis said, frowning at himself, "I didn't either."

The doorbell rang again and then the sound of the door being pounded reverberated through the whole house.

"Let us in, Gen!" Zack yelled from outside.

With a curse Genesis swept his soaked hair out of his face, resigned himself to his fate, and hurried down to the first floor. Reno followed, shoving his things into his pockets. "I'll catch the subway home," he said. "See ya around, Mr. Rhapsodos."

Genesis shot the smirking man a withering look and opened the door in the middle of Zack loudly complaining, "Sephiroth says he's starving. He's gonna eat me right here on your doorstep and I'll be dead."

Reno gave Genesis' ass a playful smack before almost rudely pushing past the crowd of men on Genesis' porch saying, "S'cuse me, s'cuse me." He hurried away, quickly turning the corner (he was probably going to be late for his evening class as it was) and disappearing.

Genesis stood horrified in his doorway, red-faced, wet from his interrupted shower and quite unable to say anything at all. The four others looked utterly shocked, and he maybe even saw some other emotion on a few faces.

Then Zack let out something like a screech and with that they all surged inside, manhandling him onto his couch.

Sounding completely flabbergasted Cloud gasped, "That was a guy!"

"Since when have you been into dudes, Gen?" Zack asked, standing and towering over Genesis, hands on his hips.

"Oh, Goddess," Genesis moaned, covering his face with his hands and drawing up his knees, utterly mortified. Someone—Sephiroth, probably, the asshole—pulled them away. Zack demanded something else of him.

"Okay, okay!" Genesis shouted over the ruckus. "Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. I'll tell you everything but I can't hear myself think!"

They sat. Zack clearly looked like he wanted to speak but was resisting; Angeal, on the other hand, hadn't said anything at all and was watching him quietly from the other side of the room, his expression guarded.

"…Alright," Genesis said with a sigh. "Thank you." Then, deciding it was best to just get it over with, asked, "What do you want to know?"

"When the hell you started sleeping with dudes for one," Zack instantly said, and he seemed a little…angrier than Genesis personally felt he had any right to be.

"Just today," he snapped back. "I—"

A deep, calming breath. More quietly he decided to just start at the beginning.

"He's a customer of mine. He came up to me earlier today and more or less asked me out. I was going to say no, because I'm not gay and don't sleep with men, but…" he shrugged, a little helplessly. "He was charming. And, frankly, I didn't really care. So I tried it, once, to see how it was. I told him he had to be gone when you arrived, but that didn't happen. Sorry you all had to see that."

His four friends were quiet. Sephiroth, Zack and Angeal were unreadable but Cloud's sweet face was contorted in shock. The look he was giving Genesis was over the top: he and Cloud had a special connection, as he had known Cloud long before any of the others did—and it hurt, to be perfectly honest. Was it really _that _big a deal to the blond?

"Well, say something," he demanded all of them, interpreting their silence as judgment. "If you have a problem with me fucking a man _fine_." He pointed a finger at Sephiroth and Angeal, defensive, "But that would be really fucking hypocritical of you two."

Sephiroth and Angeal both denied taking issue with Genesis' actions at the same time Zack and Cloud promptly lost their shit. "You guys _what_?" Zack asked.

In retrospect Genesis decided that was a shitty thing for him to say—you never outed someone without their express consent, after all—but he had been angry. Angeal predictably reddened and even Sephiroth looked uneasy. Cloud, however, covered his mouth with his hand and looked like his entire world was being turned upside down. Someone had to tell that kid to cut it out with that look; it pissed people off.

"You're into guys, Angeal?" Zack asked, giving Angeal, who was closest, a playful shove. "Holy shit I never thought—"

"That's not it," Angeal interrupted, looking away from all of them. "I just, um, experimented a bit in college. It was just a few times."

Sephiroth was upfront: "I attempted dating a friend of mine in high school. It didn't last long, and I haven't spoken to him in over a decade."

Zack was quiet, and then let out a bright laugh. "Damn! I didn't know any of that, you assholes." He smiled, easy and accepting, and in a typical Zack fashion the tension in the room began to melt away. "You okay, Spike?"

Cloud, who was looking only marginally less mindblown, nodded. A heavy blush was creeping up from his neck. "I'm fine," he assured. "Just, uh, s-surprised." He averted his gaze.

The blond's reaction was starting to concern him but Genesis really wasn't too enthused about keeping this particular conversation going. He opened his mouth to say something about dinner but Zack interrupted him. "So Cloud and I are the only ones who have no guy-on-guy experience?"

Angeal had to sit down again—all that blood in his face had to have been making him dizzy. "It seems that way," Sephiroth said, and going by his tone of voice they all could have been talking about stocks or the weather. Genesis caught him smiling, though; he was evidently enjoying everyone's discomfort.

"Well, that's unfair," Zack decided. He abruptly turned to Cloud and cupped his face with his hands—Cloud nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hey—" the blond said hastily, but then Zack leant in quick, pecked his lips and let him go. He sat back in his normal seat, smacking his lips, and shrugged at them in middle of the evening's third speechless silence.

"Whaaat," he said, waving them away. "I said it was unfair, wasn't it?" He smirked at them all, always a little piece of shit, and quipped, "You need some chapstick, Spike."

Sephiroth snorted and began laughing loudly. The others joined in, Zack looking pleased that he had gotten such a reaction. Even Cloud laughed, but to Genesis' acute gaze he looked shifty. The room was relaxed now though, calmer after Zack's little stunt.

"So what's his name?" Angeal asked. He shifted until he was sitting crosslegged on the couch and looked amused and interested—the best kind of Angeal.

"Reno," Genesis said with a sigh.

"Are you going to date him?" Zack asked. "Or was that, like, just a hook-up?"

"Most definitely a one-time thing."

"…Why?" That was Angeal asking, and Genesis could understand why. His friend had unsuccessful date after unsuccessful date and Genesis had, quite literally, access to a different sexual partner almost every night if he so desired. More than anything they wanted the other to be happy—Genesis desperately wished that Angeal would finally find a girl who could appreciate him and Angeal wanted to understand why Genesis could never commit.

Genesis figured that he owed Angeal an explanation (one that he hesitated to admit even to himself). "I don't think that I can do…monogamy," he said reluctantly. The other three were politely paying attention as well but he kept his gaze on Angeal. "I was happy for a long time with Yuffie—you know that—but eventually I got restless, I suppose. I never loved her any less but I didn't like being restricted to just one person."

He explained how he didn't cheat on her because he wouldn't do that to her, but he'd felt trapped and ultimately unsatisfied in their relationship despite the love he still felt for her. They'd eventually broken up and since then he'd been sleeping around, unable to find anyone that he loved like Yuffie and unable to reach whatever elusive, complicated ideal relationship he imagined for himself in anybody (or any group of people) else.

Angeal considered this, swishing his mouth to the side. Finally he asked, "So, what, do you want, like—a polyamorous thing?"

"A what?" Cloud asked at the same time that Sephiroth snorted again.

"I don't know," Genesis said sourly, slightly embarrassed. "What can I say—there's a lot of me to love."

Poor Cloud still looked quietly confused way over on his chair and the others looked entirely _too _thoughtful. Genesis hated being psycho-analyzed. It seemed that Angeal, always such a nice guy, was convinced that there was some sort of arrangement out there for his friend (Genesis often pessimistically felt the opposite).

"I'm hungry," Sephiroth declared, perhaps picking up on how Genesis wanted to be done with the subject. "What did you make?"

"…I was busy," Genesis huffed, "So I didn't get around to cooking. Let's order out."

"I want Wutaian," Cloud said, disappearing into the kitchen to where Genesis kept the menus.

Zack rolled his hips suggestively a few times and threw the redhead a wink. "Busy, huh?" It made Angeal burst out into laughter, covering his mouth apologetically with his hand when Genesis glared at him.

At least they all thought this was funny—it could have been much worse. They ordered the food and ate it on the floor in front of the TV, Angeal picking one of his favorite horror movies to watch. Sephiroth grimaced at the opening scene where a drunk, defenseless college student was murdered by a psycho, and Cloud seemed lost in thought.

About halfway through the film Zack got up and walked into the kitchen and, after a split-second decision, Genesis followed. The room's lights were off in order to not disturb the darkness of the living room, but Zack flicked on the small one above the oven before rustling through his snack cabinet.

"You're all out of those chips I liked," the man said with a sigh.

"I liked them too."

"Hm."

Genesis was quiet for a moment, then ripped off the band-aid. "Are you really going to propose to Aerith?"

Zack stopped digging around, falling still. "…Probably," he said, without turning around.

"Zack," Genesis said, frustrated, "Whenever we ask you sound unsure—you don't have to do it if you don't—"

He'd clearly hit a nerve. "Look, Gen," Zack said, spinning around, "Just because _you_ can't commit or whatever doesn't mean I can't!"

Genesis bit his lip and held back an explanation—because that wasn't it, not _really_—and tried to listen.

"I love Aerith," Zack said, "I really do. But…"

"But what?"

"I…don't know." Zack sounded distraught, so unlike his usual happy, confident self. Genesis' face fell and he gave Zack a helpless look, unsure what to do.

Zack, on the other hand, apparently did; he grunted and pulled the redhead into a hug. Zack was an inch or two taller than him and the hug was different from Genesis' usual but not unwelcome—Zack's grip was strong, stronger than Reno's, even. Genesis hunched until he could drop his chin on the man's shoulder, clinging just as tightly as Zack clung to him, as if he could prevent Zack's departure from their group with the strength of his arms alone.

"S'cuse me, lovebirds," came Angeal's voice. Neither had heard him come in. The man gave Zack's rear a gentle smack and nudged them to the side so he could grab a beer from the fridge, which they had been blocking.

Indignant, Zack said, "We were having a moment, Angeal." He no longer sounded teary.

"Oh. Sorry." Angeal popped his drink and took a swig, looking at them with raised eyebrows, still tangled together in the middle of the kitchen.

"C'mere," Zack sighed. He held out an arm and Angeal dutifully shuffled over, putting one arm around Genesis' waist and the other over Zack's shoulder, propping his cold drink out far enough that it wasn't in the way.

"Why are we hugging?"

"'Cause I wanted to."

Zack rested his head against Angeal's, which Angeal, always the perceptive one, allowed and reciprocated. His eyes met Genesis' briefly, asking a quick question. They didn't rush their friend, quietly holding him and each other until Zack had figured out whatever it was he was figuring out. "They'll think we fell in the oven or something," he said eventually, letting them go.

They returned to the living room, snacks firmly in hand, to find Sephiroth and Cloud deep in conversation, movie ignored, shuffled together next to each other on the couch. Cloud had one leg bent sideways on the cushion and looked intense as he said something, extremely hushed, into Sephiroth's ear. Sephiroth responded similarly. Cloud was blushing visibly, cheeks and neck blotchy and reddish-pink.

"What are _you guys _talking about?" Zack asked curiously, leaning over the back of their couch and ruffling both their hair (much to Sephiroth's dismay—he shot his oldest friend a look and fixed his hair with a frown).

"Nothing!" Cloud yelped. He got up and retreated to the loveseat on the other side of the room, only to have Angeal more or less sit on him and start pulling at his cheeks, telling him he was cute.

"Oh, my god—stop—" Cloud fought him off and glowered at them all. "I have to pee," he announced, and hurried out of the room.

"Well, that was weird," Genesis said, deciding to spare the blond and not push it, though his behavior had been a little off all evening; Cloud was never the type to get so obviously worked up about anything. He'd ask about it some other time.

The movie was rewound a bit and started again, everybody eventually falling back into place. Evidently over their initial shock from before, no one seemed to care anymore—friends this close, Genesis mused, had the ability to roll with such things. As he had said so, it would have been a little hypocritical for Sephiroth and Angeal to mind, Zack was the crazy brand of nice that accepted everything about everybody, and Cloud, bless him, smiled shyly at him every time their eyes met, but he was open and it seemed like he'd blown his conservative small-town mind, but in a good way.

He almost didn't know why he had been so worried that they would react badly or why he had felt like he was cheating. After all, it wasn't like he was dating any of them, and certainly not all four.

Nothing to worry about.

They picked at each other's food, Genesis making sure to sit on the floor tucked up against Angeal's side like he had as a kid after sneaking into the Hewley home. This time, however, he had Sephiroth's long legs folded over his as the man snoozed his way through the movie, overwhelmed with a full belly after a long day's work. Zack was watching too but looked distracted, no doubt thinking about his girlfriend. Cloud, quiet and steady behind them, was engrossed.

Despite their troubles and their group being on the eve of some great transformation—he could feel it—Genesis felt confident that the future he'd described to Angeal once, one of safety and people who loved them unconditionally, was now. Even if the relationships he had now were a bit unconventional, perhaps, and were of a different shape than the ones he'd imagined as a teen, they existed nonetheless—they were strong and greater than he'd ever thought. Thanks to this group of guys whatever he'd ached for as a kid, in some shape or form—he and Angeal had achieved it.


	4. Cloud

_Chapter Four: Cloud  
(this chapter contains some light sexual content.)_

About five years ago Cloud thought he had it all. Nibelheim disappeared from his rearview mirror days before, the mountain air and tiny run-down houses slowly replaced with smog and grand skyscrapers that collectively took his breath away. With his girlfriend on his arm and a head full of dreams he was ready to take on the world.

Unfortunately life back home had made both he and Tifa painfully naïve. Almost from the start their blissful, picture-perfect relationship had soured and now, five years later and still together only because their far-off relatives in a distant town would be devastated, they were miserable.

Absolutely miserable.

On a warm Friday morning Cloud crept into the apartment he shared with Tifa, or had shared—he had not been around much in the past month or so. It was always strange visiting an extremely familiar place after being gone for a short time. Differences, no matter how small, could be jarring.

Tifa did not seem to be home. Relieved, Cloud quickly moved through the living room (walking around a coffee table in the middle of the room that he had never seen before and threatened to give him vertigo). Their apartment was small for two people, a one-bedroom without a proper kitchen. When they moved to Midgar, though, they had both been amazed and considered themselves lucky (hey, anything was better than a drafty wooden shack your great-grandpa built with his bare hands). These days they both openly referred to it as a shithole, though all the negative feelings packed into the room until it resembled a distended balloon surely had something to do with it. There had to be an explosion eventually.

He popped into the bedroom but instantly regretted it; his deductions were incorrect after all. Tifa was sitting on their bed typing away on her laptop, probably for work. She was a freelance writer and wrote boring health articles; she hated it.

"Back from your boyfriend's house?" She asked without looking up.

Cloud had to clench his jaw tight to stop himself from saying something awful. He instead did not answer, shrugging the empty duffel bag off his shoulder and carrying it over to the dresser. The clothes Zack procured for him a few weeks back weren't enough.

Cloud opened one of his drawers but saw only Tifa's pajamas in it instead. Behind him the typing continued without pause but he could just feel it; he could _tell_—she was amused.

After loudly slamming the drawer shut Cloud moved through each of them, only finding his clothes—everything he owned that wasn't in the closet, it looked like—crammed into the bottom two. He cleared it all out and, still silent, moved into the connecting bathroom. As he was adding his shampoo and such, which all looked thankfully untouched, Tifa asked from the next room, "So are you finally moving out?"

"No," Cloud answered tightly, focusing on bagging his stuff. Then, because he was an asshole, he asked, "Why—you eager to replace me with some client of yours?"

Tifa snorted. "Not yet. I've got to say, though, Cloud—I am pretty anxious to start dating a straight guy. My vibrator's just not cutting it anymore, you know?"

"_Dammit_, Tifa!" Cloud threw a bottle of eye drops against the wall of the shower in a rage and it burst with a bang. "Shut—!"

His reflection, glimpsed out of the corner of his eye, was almost unrecognizable. His chest heaved, face purpling, eyes wide and furious—Cloud Strife wasn't capable of that much anger, surely?

Walking back into the bedroom, Cloud pointed a finger at Tifa and said through gritted teeth, "Shut the hell up. I'm not gay."

Tifa looked utterly bored by his latest violent outburst. "Whatever you say, Strife."

Absolutely fucking miserable.

The saddest thing was that, under radically different circumstances, they could have been great friends. The Strife and Lockhart families had been close for generations, living a few blocks away from each other. From birth their families had decided that the two of them would be married one day. As young children they had accepted it; they liked each other quite a bit after all. Cloud knew one day he and Tifa would have a beautiful family that would make everyone proud.

Nibelheim was a town deeply entrenched in tradition. Going against your parents just wasn't done. Arranged marriages or courtships like Cloud's and Tifa's weren't horrible or unfair; they were just how things were done. People grew to love each other. That was not to say, however, that the two of them, both stubborn and cut from the same cloth, didn't rebel a little.

Both their families had been against it at first but they had been relentless, and eventually the go-ahead to leave had been obtained. City life—Midgar's in particular—was the stuff of legend after all, and Nibelheim, although quaint, although safe and familiar—was suffocating.

Cloud dropped out of high school when his mom got sick his junior year. She recovered but not until Cloud's year had already graduated, and by then he was used to working for enough money to take care of his mother anyway. Tifa had graduated but there wasn't a college in Nibelheim, or even near it, Rocket Town being the closest—and there wasn't even internet to take classes somewhere.

At 21 they both left home, misty-eyed but excited. Whatever they were going to find had to be better than what they were leaving behind.

If you had asked Mrs. Strife she probably would blame the corruption or bad spirits of the city for what happened next. Cloud and Tifa were both harshly slapped in the face by the reality that was living in a cramped, unwelcoming apartment, Cloud not having enough formal education to find reasonable, safe employment, and culture shock so strong it led to many late nights calling the only phone in town hoping to just hear their parent's voices.

They managed, but barely, quickly getting at each other's throats over small things. As children they had been best friends, but now they were adults, expected to be deeply in love and successful. They were neither of those things.

Then Cloud met Genesis. He had gotten temporary work as a delivery boy at ChocoEx and routinely dropped shipments of books and the like off at a bookshop in the good part of town called _Rhapsodize_. They didn't interact much at first, nothing but a smile and a _sign here, please_ every time Cloud dropped something off, but once Cloud had stopped to peer at an auto-related subscription on the magazine rack and they got to talking.

After Genesis and Cloud's friendship developed more Genesis encouraged Cloud to get his GED to obtain a more stable delivery job. He met Angeal, Sephiroth, and Zack and Cloud went from having only one good thing in his life to four.

With that, though, came the accusations. They were angry with each other, both deeply unhappy with their lives that had not worked out as planned and took it out on each other. Tifa constantly accused Cloud of being gay, frequently taunted him about his friends, and Cloud, extremely defensive (and almost in denial, though he had not put any real thought into it until recently) attacked her in any way he could, save physical violence—he called her a slut, said she was cheating on him, that she sucked at her job, that she was a horrible person. The list went on.

His mom would be horrified if she knew the abuses Cloud shouted at his girlfriend in the heat of the moment. His younger self, even, would be appalled.

Frankly, it was terrifying.

Absolutely fucking _miserable_.

"I'll be back," he grunted.

"Tell Genesis or whoever I said hi!" Tifa hollered.

Cloud slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

After a walk around the block to cool his head and shake off the hazy cloud of anger behind his eyes (scary that it existed at all) Cloud took the opportunity to visit Zack, since he was in the same building. Truthfully Cloud felt like he was neglecting his best friend a little—he knew that Zack was dealing with a lot of shit with the proposal to Aerith and all. Fear of Zack turning the tables and asking why he and Tifa were so bad kept him from asking, though, and recently he'd been too wrapped up in Sephiroth—er, living with Sephiroth—to really pay attention to much else.

He knocked and waited anxiously for the door to open, irrationally afraid that Tifa would somehow show up and they would have another confrontation. The door opened after a minute though to reveal Zack, who was wearing a sweater vest and looked like he had not slept in a few days.

"Cloud," he said, looking shifty. "Hey, man."

"Zack," Cloud greeted, and he threw his arms around his friend to show how happy he was to see him (and also because he privately maybe needed one). Zack always smelled nice and was stupidly tall, his body the perfect type to give nice, strong embraces. Not that Cloud cared or noticed it, _really_.

"Long time no see, man. We haven't hung out by ourselves in forever. I stopped by my place for some stuff—"

Zack had quickly danced away from his hug and kept craning his neck backward to peer into his apartment, which was twice the size of Cloud and Tifa's for half the occupancy. He interrupted Cloud's happy talk. "Now's not a good time, Spike."

"…Oh." Cloud put his hands down at his sides and took half a step backwards so he was outside in the hallway again.

Zack looked torn. "I'll, uh, I'll see you on Tuesday, okay? Seph's place?"

Cloud nodded.

"Heh, yeah. So, uh." His shoulders went rigid and he turned around again—this time looking at his girlfriend, Aerith, who had appeared from the living room and who was watching them quietly. "Cloud's here!" Zack said, too-loud and too-cheery, "But I told him we're busy, Aer."

Zack had taken a large step away from him, which didn't escape Cloud's notice. "Hey, Aerith," he said easily, waving, "Sorry to disturb you guys." Zack just stared and Aerith only offered a weak smile so Cloud, feeling awkward and unwanted, made his exit after mentioning again their plans to see each other on Tuesday.

Now what the hell was _that _about?

* * *

Tuesday came and went, and compared to most others it was kind of a dud. Cloud spent most of his time glued to Genesis' side and quietly watched the others interact. Zack was distracted and distant, which Cloud was sure he wasn't the only one to notice.

To tell the truth often Cloud felt left out in his friend group, a fifth wheel perhaps. He was the last one to be 'added,' after all—Zack, Sephiroth, Genesis and Angeal, all older than him, had been extremely close when he arrived on the scene. It wasn't just that: the other four were very college-educated—higher degrees, actually—and Cloud only had a GED, earning significantly less than them.

Unquestionably Cloud loved them and he knew they all loved him back. Still, he couldn't help feeling on the fringes of the group sometimes, so he was quiet. He never talked to them about his insecurities, never talked to them about his issues with his girlfriend, and never talked about how being attached to Tifa at such a young age meant he had never gotten a chance to explore himself and that these days he was questioning all sorts of things and desperately needed someone to confide in.

Genesis had been the one to get to know him first. The man saw past his scared, stressed, resentful exterior to the brave and passionate man beneath and encouraged him to be all he could be. Genesis, at least, for all his sass and attitude, was never judgmental where Cloud was concerned.

But that was not the only reason why Cloud had been slightly…fixated on his redheaded friend lately. Later that week, on an uninspired Thursday evening, Cloud looked at Sephiroth from across the dinner table and asked, "So what do you think about Genesis?"

Sephiroth looked confused (or was playing it very well). The man had been different recently. Youthful. Cloud knew he was making the man so goddamn _happy _by living here, by sitting across from him at the dinner table and asking vague questions about Genesis. It made Cloud happy too.

"About that guy he slept with," Cloud clarified, picking at the runny mashed potatoes they attempted to make together and not making eye contact.

"I support whatever Genesis does, as long as it makes him happy and isn't destructive."

"Well, yeah, but what d'you…y'know…"

Sephiroth's gaze was shrewd. His home wasn't nearly as big as Genesis', though still far, far bigger than Cloud's or even Zack's apartment. The two of them had been living together in reasonably close quarters now for a few weeks, Cloud making ample use of the man's couch and making himself at home. Sephiroth never minded; in fact, Cloud would catch him staring sometimes when Cloud woke in the morning or when he was trying to fall asleep, like Cloud staying over was one of the best things in his life right now.

As a result they got to know each other even better. They'd always been close (all five were very close with each other member of their little group) but lately they were developing a bond so strong it concerned Cloud a little. It was scary to let someone in too much, to reveal too much of your soul.

Sephiroth was tiptoeing at that edge and had been for a while. He was close, Cloud was pretty sure, to figuring something out that Cloud was hardly able to admit to himself. That motherfucker didn't miss anything.

So, Cloud dropped his gaze to his food and mumbled a _forget it,_ praying Sephiroth wasn't thinking too hard about why Cloud was so hung up on Genesis recently having sex with a man. They were both quiet for a short while, eating the meal they had labored over together.

Then Sephiroth's foot nudged his under the table. Cloud looked up and the silver-haired man offered a small, understanding smile. Cloud returned an embarrassed, worryingly watery one.

That's all they said on the subject for slightly under two weeks.

* * *

During those two weeks, however, Cloud did a lot of thinking: thinking about Tifa, who he had not been in contact with since he had come over to get more of his stuff and then had a freak-out and thrown things. Thinking about Genesis, who Cloud talked on the phone with every few nights as if needing to remind himself of why he was here and why he cared, why he even bothered. Thinking about Sephiroth, who was the best 'roommate' he ever could imagine and who he could barely stand to be separated from more and more. Thinking about Angeal, who Cloud ached to see—the man always set him straight and put things into perspective. His kindness and perceptiveness could be a little intimidating but he grew used to it.

He tried calling Zack a few times but kept getting the same responses: _Sorry, no time to chat, Spike, I'll talk to ya some other time okay? _And _It's not a good time, Spike_ and then _I can't talk now, Cloud. _ So he thought about Zack too when he was slogging through sweaty, repetitive, physically-exhausting deliveries, at least until he saw Sephiroth again and they had enough fun to distract him for the evening.

They had that dud of a guys' night at Sephiroth's place a few days after his trip to his own apartment and Zack's, at Genesis' the following week, which Zack showed up to halfway through with a lame-ass excuse, and then again at Sephiroth's. On the Friday between these two events deliveries were slow so Cloud took the time to visit Angeal at work, something he did not do nearly as often as he should.

Angeal's flower shop was the kind of place that was occasionally featured on tourist postcards. Absolutely adorable and a stark contrast to the ugly, generic buildings that surrounded it, _Hewley's _was a local favorite. Everyone loved having some greenery to light up their homes, and no one more so than Angeal (Genesis always jokingly got into fights with Angeal by saying he hated plants).

To Cloud's immense relief Angeal was not chatting with a female when he arrived. That was relief on Angeal's behalf—it was always the same. Angeal, being an incredibly handsome, engaging, personable man, would have customers eating out of the palms of his hands, take a girl out, and inevitably come back the next day (or after the second date, if he was lucky) upset and confused as to why his date had gone wrong. Nobody wanted that for one of their best friends.

In fact Angeal was alone and mouthing the words to a pop song softly playing from a radio in the corner as he created pretty ready-made bouquets to grab and purchase. His eyes flickered over when he heard a new customer come in and instantly gave a bright smile.

"That your favorite song, huh?"

"Shut up. What do _you _want, huh? You never visit me."

"I'm thinking of proposing to my girlfriend Aerith. Got any flowers she'd like?"

It had been a joke, but in retrospect, in very poor taste. Angeal's wide smile disappeared.

Cloud covered his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Ang—I was just joking. I—sorry."

"It's okay," Angeal reassured him, but he looked bummed. Cloud sighed, disappointed he managed to fuck up their meeting already. He gave an apologetic smile and Angeal clapped him on the shoulder and handed him a few thin, yellow plastic sleeves.

"Since you're here harassing me and all, I might as well put you to work. Bag and tie the bouquets shut if I hand you the flowers?"

Cloud hopped up on the long countertop where Angeal did a lot of his cutting work, away from the register in case a customer came in. He asked about business that day (busy in the morning but slow now, according to Angeal) and about whether he'd scored himself a date for the weekend (actually he had yesterday, laughed Angeal (damn)).

"Speaking of Zack," Angeal said eventually, after returning from helping an elderly woman who had come in for a small potted cactus, "Have you heard from him lately?"

"Not really." Cloud shrugged and accepted the handful of roses he was passed. "Actually—I've been trying but he says he's always busy."

"That's what he keeps telling me too."

Angeal looked confused and frustrated. As much as it was a relief to know that it was not just him that Zack was possibly avoiding it wasn't fair that Angeal was feeling so down.

"Hey," Cloud said, placing his hand on Angeal's shoulder to stop him from working for a second. Angeal looked down at him, his handsome face scrunched up in hurt and a bit of anger that contrasted with the cute, happy little flower shop around them. The blond's hand slid down Angeal's arm until he could grab his hand and he squeezed gently.

"I wouldn't worry. I don't know what's wrong with him, but we'll figure it out. I know it's nothing you did."

Angeal looked a bit surprised by Cloud's words. "Thank you, Cloud," he said sincerely, and embarrassed, Cloud let his hand go and went back to his chore.

In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere Angeal asked, "So how are you and Sephiroth doing?"

"_Great_." Cloud gushed about how he and Sephiroth were doing just marvelously, attempting to cook together, going outside and doing things, watching movies and coordinating their work hours to hang out. They even had dinner at an actual restaurant the past week, which Genesis upon hearing about it kept jokingly referring to as their 'romantic date.'

"You're really making him happy," Angeal confided, and Cloud did not doubt it as Angeal and Sephiroth went way, way back. "He acts tough, but he hates being alone. So thanks."

"Not a problem," Cloud grinned.

"How long are you going to stay there though? What's the status with you and Tifa?"

"It's…" Cloud swallowed, suddenly flooded with irrational fear. "It's, uh, not that good. I don't know what's happening there."

Angeal sensed the trouble in Cloud's voice and looked up—but Cloud was looking away and down, studying the rack of colorful seed packets in the corner.

"Did something happen?"

"Uh…n-no—not—"

Angeal abandoned his flowers and moved a few feet to the side to where Cloud was still sitting on the counter, the heavy boots of his work uniform dangling above the floor. "Cloud," he said, and when Cloud answered with a bland "What?" he moved in closer and cupped the blond's face with his hands.

Looking up into Angeal's concerned blue eyes was hard. Cloud was a shut-off guy, never confiding in anyone—not even Zack, who knew just bits and pieces of his issues with Tifa. He _wanted _to though. Angeal tenderly brushed the hair off Cloud's forehead and held it out of the way, stroking his left cheekbone with the thumb of his other hand.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

Cloud had to press a palm to his mouth to stop himself from blurting everything. It would be so easy—Angeal's stupid kindness was nearly drawing it out of him against his will. It would be easy to say that Genesis' latest one-night stand had made him realize that he maybe was not as alone or isolated as he tended to feel, and that maybe there was a reason, more than just fighting, to explain why he and Tifa hadn't had sex in almost a year, that maybe there was some truth to what she yelled at him even if there was none in what he screamed in return.

"Angeal," he said shakily, moving his hand just enough to speak and be understood, "You have to stop."

"No, Cloud," Angeal said stubbornly. He was so close now that Cloud's knees were getting dirty from the _Hewley's _apron Angeal was wearing.

At the worst possible moment someone walked into the shop, on the phone by the sound of it. Angeal turned around but didn't move his feet. "We're closed," he said sternly, despite being nothing of the sort. The customer now gone, he turned back to Cloud and pressed their foreheads together.

"Tell me what's wrong, Cloud," he begged.

The distraction from a moment earlier had given Cloud a moment to breathe. Angeal had a fix-it obsession—he was not in everybody's business unnecessarily but he liked helping them, liked to take care of his four friends. Cloud, who was always too icy and quiet to reveal anything for Angeal to work with, was evidently long overdue for the Hewley treatment.

Cloud's friends really were such nice guys; nicer than he deserved.

Angeal's eyes were sincere, though Cloud was cross-eyed from trying to look at them from such a short distance. Angeal moved Cloud's hand from his mouth and held on to it, their fingers intertwined. He was just really, really close in every way.

With hardly an inch of movement—close enough to kiss, even.

Inhaling sharply Cloud extracted himself and hopped down off the counter. "I have to go back to work," he said firmly.

"Cloud…"

"Ang_eal_," Cloud replied with a warm, indulgent smile. He gently punched the man's shoulder and leant up to kiss his cheek, near his ear—a gesture that for the five of them meant something goofy and affectionate. "Thanks. I know I can talk to you if I need to. I will. Promise."

His friend was still frowning, so Cloud pretended he couldn't see and slipped out before he said something he regretted.

* * *

On Tuesday guys' night was held at Sephiroth's house, and like the weeks before it was underwhelming. Zack texted Aerith the entire time and paid very little attention to them. To compensate Genesis was annoyingly loud. On top of that Angeal kept trying to get Cloud to spill whatever he had not on Friday in the shop, to very little success.

So, when the night ended Sephiroth and Cloud watched them leave, complained about the group dynamic lately, and got drunk. Not wasted, because they both had work the next day, but drunk enough to have them eventually lying together on the couch and giggling at the bad jokes on the late-night sitcom that was on. Sephiroth sprawled out on his back, leaning against the armrest a bit, his hair mostly swept up and back over the armrest to pool on the floor. Cloud was belly-down on top of him, one arm propped out to hold on to his beer.

Maybe a few weeks ago this kind of behavior would have been weird between them—maybe not (Cloud wouldn't think it weird with Angeal, Zack, or Genesis after all). It just went to show—no matter how close you were with a person, even if they were your friend for a long time, there was always room for more development.

"Hey, Seph," Cloud prompted after a while, when the talk of work and whatnot had been exhausted and they had lulled, Cloud burying his face in the man's neck and starting to doze off.

"Hmm?" Sephiroth did not open his eyes, but he adjusted accordingly when Cloud shifted his weight around, an arm looping around his waist, hand resting on the back of his belt.

"You're sure you don't mind me staying here for so long?"

"Not at all."

Cloud fell silent again. Sephiroth, warm and comfortable, looked somehow more regal than usual despite his hair a mess and all up off his neck. The flickering light of the TV accentuated his high cheekbones, long, straight nose, the slight part of his lips as he relaxed, and his strong Adam's apple. Sephiroth had been kind of scary once—exotic looks, intense attitude, sharp words. Cloud wasn't even slightly intimidated by him anymore.

Alcohol made Cloud either very brave or very sad, and today it was the former. "Hey, Seph," he said again, hiding his face on the man's shoulder once more.

"Hmm."

"I'm pretty sure I'm into guys, not girls."

"I know."

Cloud stayed still and quiet for a moment, then moved some weight to his knees on either side of Sephiroth's hips so he could prop himself up and peer into the man's face. Sephiroth's eyes opened, as piercing and green as always even in the poor light, and he fixed Cloud with an even, matter-of-fact stare.

"And you're okay with it?"

"Obviously." Sephiroth smiled, cocky, somehow what Cloud needed. "You know already that I was involved with a man once. I won't judge you."

"Oh." Cloud laid back down again, and Sephiroth started stroking warm swipes on the soft skin of Cloud's lower back beneath his t-shirt with his thumb. "I've always thought about it. I mean—since moving here, and when Tifa and I started to get bad. Back home, though—non-heterosexuality isn't a thing, you know? My mom…she probably won't talk to me again if she finds out. So I didn't want to think about it. But then Genesis…well. And Angeal kinda and even you too. So I guess I figured I'm not actually that much of a freak after all."

Sephiroth didn't respond but he bumped his head against Cloud's in solidarity and left it there.

"So you knew?"

"Of course."

They turned their heads to look at each other again and Cloud laughed. "Okay, whatever," he said. He adjusted his weight again, Sephiroth's hand coasting up to rest spread and flat against the small of his back. It was warm. Cloud relaxed a little more, sagging onto his friend with his whole weight (something he couldn't do with Tifa; she always complained that her boobs hurt). He reached up and tugged on a lock of silver hair. Their faces were very close.

"So what was it like?"

Sephiroth's eyes cracked open once more and he tilted his head a bit, pupils blown wide in the dark. He was drunker than Cloud.

"Dating a man?" Sephiroth asked, squinting one eye shut.

Cloud, giggling softly again and smooshing one of Sephiroth's cute cheeks with his thumb, whispered, "Yeah. I don't know. Dating. Sex. Everything. Is it similar?"

"There is not much of a difference," Sephiroth shrugged. "Lazard was older than me, which was unique, but other than that… a mouth is a mouth. Everyone likes it the same when you buy them dinner." He smiled, slightly lopsided.

"…I don't know if I believe you," Cloud said carefully. He moved to put his weight on his knees again, hunching so his center of gravity was somewhere between Sephiroth's zipper and his belly button.

Sephiroth studied him for a moment. "You don't?"

"Nope." Cloud leant in a little more, his breath puffing on the side of Sephiroth's face. "It seems like it would be pretty different—but hey, I don't know for sure…don't have any experience to say so…"

A few quiet, small laughs escaped him, ruining the effect he had been going for. Sephiroth smiled widely and their eyes met. "I guess you'll have—"

"Oh, shut up," Sephiroth interrupted, and lifted his head off the armrest to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

Cloud had been mostly bullshitting before and he found that Sephiroth was largely right—kissing a guy, at least, was no different from kissing someone who wasn't a guy. Still, Sephiroth wasn't just _a guy _and there were other things that were different from his encounters with Tifa, like the way Sephiroth used that hand on his back to press and pull him higher up his body. His hand, tangled in the hair on the back of his head, gripped tight and was used to tilt his head a certain way when Sephiroth wanted it.

But _fuck_, there was something else—more than just the physical reality of Sephiroth's mouth being bigger and different from Tifa's—something else drove him wild. They quickly abandoned any attempt at chasteness, moving to sloppy open-mouthed kisses and soon Cloud had his tongue in Sephiroth's mouth, stroking against the other man's like they had been doing it forever. Tifa 'didn't like it' when Cloud tried as much or got aggressive—Sephiroth, on the other hand, seemed to fucking love it.

Cloud gripped his chin tightly, taking his sweet time in leisurely exploring the soft contours of his mouth, the webby underside of his tongue, the strangely sharp points of his canines. He pushed down into Sephiroth's body, dug against his sides with his knees and gave Sephiroth all he had, everything he couldn't—or wouldn't—give to his girlfriend.

In return Sephiroth's hands eventually slid down his body, grabbed his ass, and helped Cloud, still hovering over his body, roll his hips against his chest. For just a split second Cloud remembered that he was with his _friend_, a friend he'd had for years now—a close friend, the kind of friend where doing this kind of thing should be unthinkable—but then it vanished and he found that the fact that it was Sephiroth was the best part. Instead of Sephiroth being merely _a man_, someone that was a not-Tifa, Cloud wanted to do this with him, desperately wanted to gently bite his lip and nip at his jaw because it was _Sephiroth_.

The realization made him laugh. Sephiroth seemed amused too, for whatever reason; he pulled at Cloud's knees until he was forced to sit on his lap, bent legs coming up, and then sat up straight. They were more or less even with each other now, staring each other straight in the eye without any of Cloud's hair hanging down in the way. Cloud expected it to be weird, expected a big moment of panic.

There wasn't one, however. Sephiroth gave a shrug, something he probably would not have done if completely sober, and merely leaned in to kiss him again. His arms fell to Cloud's waist, Cloud's went to Sephiroth's shoulders, and for a short while the two friends stopped comparing Sephiroth to Tifa or thinking about how Cloud didn't actually live here and was going to leave one of these days.

With the occasional soft laugh or murmured word the two of them, who thought they could not get any more familiar, familiarized themselves with each other in a whole new way.

Eventually though Cloud, horny and aching to explore more, to get at the meat of what it meant to fool around with a male, scooted backward so he could prop himself up over the other's knees instead, wiping his sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

"Seph," he panted, "Can I…?"

Hopeful, his hands fell to the front of the man's pants and curled under the waistband. The skin underneath was warm.

Sephiroth didn't answer for a second, but then he jerkily nodded his head and relaxed against the armrest again.

"How much did you drink?"

"I'm fine. Get on with it, Strife."

Cloud laughed and lightly punched him; Sephiroth grabbed his hand and held it momentarily, meeting his slightly-nervous blue eyes with a warm look.

Fortified, Cloud let go and quickly unbuttoned Sephiroth's pants. The man lifted his hips and Cloud unceremoniously pushed everything down to about his mid-thigh, blinking owlishly at the half-hard cock that greeted him as a result.

Nervous as hell, Cloud blurted, "I've never seen another one in person before."

Sephiroth lost it, letting his head loll back as he laughed so hard and for so long that Cloud almost climbed right off and went to bed. "Shut the hell up!" he hissed.

Subsiding a little, Sephiroth dragged him by the face up for more kisses, lingering and soft. When he was let go Cloud scoffed and focused on the task at hand, ignoring the way his face burned.

He wrapped his fingers around the base, just experimentally. He felt the weight in his hands, shifted his grip a few times and gave one long, slow stroke, watching the way the soft skin shifted in various ways at his touch. Everything was so goddamn surreal. Cloud had thought that he would be stuck with Tifa for the rest of his life at age fifteen—he hadn't let himself fantasize (too much) about what it would be like to have his hands on another man.

"This is super weird," he whispered softly, not looking up.

"Ouch."

"Not you." Cloud sent Sephiroth a sunny smile and then licked a wet stripe up his palm so he could work his hand up and down without hurting him. There was so much to focus on and pay attention to—Sephiroth's cock itself, yeah, but also the exposed jut of his hipbones, the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, and his balls, which Cloud couldn't see well due to Sephiroth's limited mobility with his pants only down so far. He stopped the train of his thoughts after that, needing to remind himself that actual sex was not the goal.

Well. There was time for him to experience all of that later.

…Wait—was there?

Sephiroth made a frustrated noise, fed up with Cloud's exploratory touches. Smiling again, Cloud made Sephiroth sit up straight, moved him back so he could lean against something, and straddled the man's upper thighs. Not knowing what else to do he, after a few false starts, began jacking Sephiroth the same way he did himself.

The universality seemed to work. Sephiroth's head fell forward until their foreheads touched, similar to how Angeal had done it the other day. Instead of just imagining kissing Angeal, though, Cloud drew Sephiroth into a series of soft, sweet smooches. But he was curious…

"I've got to ask," he stated, letting out a breathy sound when Sephiroth descended on his neck, nipping gently at his jugular and sending a full-body shiver through the blond. "Isn't this weird?"

"Is what weird?"

"Getting a handjob from one of your best friends."

"…No." Sephiroth sounded slightly perplexed. "It isn't."

"Oh." Cloud glanced down and began swirling the roughness of his calloused thumb across the head of Sephiroth's cock every time it got swallowed by his fist. "That's good. There's something else I've got to ask, though."

"_What_?" Sephiroth was smiling despite his annoyed tone.

"Are you attracted to me?"

That got Sephiroth to stop being silly for a moment, though Cloud didn't stop his movements. He glanced into Cloud's eyes. "I…don't think I—_fuck, Cloud—_that, uh, that I was…but then it hit me all at once I realized you wanted to get-" he swallowed thickly, "-physical."

"So what kind of answer is that?"

"_Yes_, you little brat." Sephiroth's hand covered Cloud's, their fingers easily moving to accommodate the other's, and Cloud let Sephiroth dictate the speed. He seemed honestly mystified by Cloud's question.

"Well, what about this." Cloud smiled and leant in predatorily, trailing his lips up from Sephiroth's pulse fluttering away at his collarbone to his ear. "Would you fuck someone like, say, Genesis?"

Sephiroth went still in surprise for a moment, then groaned.

"Is that a yes?"

"You're awful. Of course I would."

Cloud kissed the shell of the man's ear. At this point Sephiroth was mostly jerking off by himself with Cloud's hand along for the ride, but he didn't mind. That was fun too. "Would you fuck someone like Zack?"

"So long as they weren't going on about proposing to their girlfriend," Sephiroth whispered, his voice strained but laughing.

Cloud lightly smacked his cheek. "And you call me awful?" The man was close—the pumping of his hand increased speeds and his kisses grew intense and forceful, making the blond breathless with trying to keep up.

"And," Cloud panted, eventually breaking away and moving back to whisper wetly into Sephiroth's ear, "Would you fuck Angeal?"

That did it—Sephiroth's whole body tensed for a few, tight seconds, and then he let out a long groan into Cloud's shoulder as together they eased out his orgasm.

Cloud wasn't sure when they had moved from discussing hypothetically having sex with someone _like _their friends to actually having sex with their friends but he wouldn't say the idea wasn't appealing. In recent weeks Cloud had been noticing the physical attractiveness of his friends more and more, though he had chalked it up to finally coming to terms with his sexuality more than anything actually meaningful.

Their hands were covered with cum; Sephiroth wiped his hand unashamedly on Cloud's shirt and glared when Cloud protested. They eased Sephiroth's pants back up. Sephiroth's hands skittered towards Cloud's waist but Cloud gently pushed them away, saying, "Nah, I'm fine. Really."

He dipped his head for a kiss and to his surprise was not rejected; Sephiroth's arms came around him, warm and strong, and tugged him into a better position for sleep, tucked against his side instead of on top of him.

"We are going to sleep, and nothing will be uncomfortable between us tomorrow," Sephiroth declared, and about a minute later his breathing was slow and steady with sleep.

Was Sephiroth concerned too about what had just transpired? If he thought it made some sense—Sephiroth, after all, was on some level afraid of Cloud leaving. Cute.

Cloud sighed and relaxed, looping a possessive arm around Sephiroth's chest. Angeal, Zack and Genesis couldn't know—at least, not right away. So often Cloud felt left out of the group, completely unintentionally by the other four; it wasn't their fault. Still, for one night at least Sephiroth had been _his, _not any of the other's. That was important to him.

It wasn't until he was seconds from sleep that the full impact finally hit him. He'd done what he always cheaply accused Tifa of: cheating.

Cloud's sleep was uneasy.

* * *

The next morning there was no time for embarrassment or guilt; they both overslept. Cloud woke with a jolt when Sephiroth yelped after realizing how bright it was in the room, and then rolled off the couch onto the floor when Sephiroth suddenly stood.

They quickly got dressed after huddling together under the freezing spray of the shower for less than two minutes and flew out the door without another word. Sephiroth went to his small desk, grumpy assistant and daily calls from Angeal. Cloud jetted off to pick up that day's deliveries. The blond was lucky that his job was physically demanding. It took hardly any effort at all to not think about what had transpired the evening before (in a moment of weakness at a red light it brought a bright blush to Cloud's face but otherwise went unconsidered). As for Sephiroth, however, that was different; sometimes it was like all the man did was think.

Was he agonizing over last night in his office, guilty and regretting it? Was he planning to tell the others? Sephiroth and Zack told each other everything; was he on the phone, right now, telling him how Cloud had been the one to start everything? Would he still want to be friends?

He was going to give himself an ulcer worrying about it, so he did not.

Or, he did not at least until he arrived at Sephiroth's house that evening. He had put it off, going grocery shopping after work, but it was time to face the truth. Sephiroth was in the kitchen when he arrived, bent over the stove and poking at a pot of rice that looked like it had twice the correct amount of water.

"Looks delicious," Cloud said, peering around him. Sephiroth sighed and emptied it over the trashcan.

"Tell me you got something we can eat."

"I did." They rustled through the bags together and quickly fashioned something. They sat at opposite ends of the small table and began to eat in silence. Usually this was no problem. Neither was extremely talkative (though when intoxicated Cloud usually couldn't shut up, as evidenced by the previous evening) and they often went entire meals comfortably without speaking.

This was oppressive, however.

"Seph," Cloud said hesitantly after a time. Sephiroth's whole body was guarded as he waited for Cloud to continue. Maybe he was as afraid as Cloud was of rejection. He took a breath and called forth all the bravery he never had when failing to defy his family or stand up to his girlfriend. "I don't regret it at all."

His tone and the look he fixed his friend with left no room for misinterpretation. Of this, if nothing else in his life, he was sure.

"…Neither do I."

"Okay." Cloud finally had to look away and poked at his chicken. "I had to check…make sure you didn't want me to leave or anything…heh."

"Cloud," Sephiroth admonished, bumping their feet together under the table for added effect, "That is the last thing I would want." When their eyes met he added, "I mean that."

Dinner continued normally after that, but then as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder washing dishes afterward Cloud could feel Sephiroth's eyes on him, and as he handed Sephiroth a wet, soapy plate he simultaneously pushed himself up on his toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of the older man's mouth like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Sephiroth turned his head, catching Cloud's lips before they could retreat, and licked his way into the blond's mouth without any hesitancy. Cloud's hands, soapy and warm, came up to grip the man's shirt.

It took several minutes for them to settle down. Sephiroth gave him one last kiss, cupping his face between his two slender, careful hands, and then broke away. "We should finish the dishes first," he said.

When they were done Cloud pushed Sephiroth against the counter and grabbed at him again, unable to keep his mouth or hands off the man's body. Somehow whatever feelings they had felt the evening before hadn't dried up in the sunlight of day; in fact, it all felt much the same. Or—perhaps more accurately—nothing felt different from how it usually did. It was like their relationship had been waiting to take a sexual turn at the flip of a switch from years now and they hadn't noticed. And wasn't that weird?

The next fortnight passed in a haze of something very close to bliss for the two men. Cloud moved from the couch, beloved as it was, to Sephiroth's bed. Waking up next to the blond prompted Sephiroth to say one morning, propped up on one bare arm and looking down, "This is how it always should have been."

Cloud didn't know what to say to that.

Like two teenagers with a secret they didn't tell Angeal, Genesis or Zack, despite both feeling strangely guilty about not doing so. They talked about it one night (a weird night, after hypotheticals about Zack during sex had spiraled into the realm of reality again). Unquestionably what Sephiroth and Cloud were doing felt right, _so _goddamn right—yet something felt wrong. Missing, maybe. It wasn't right that the other three were unaware.

Still, fearing consequences they did not want to contemplate, they didn't say anything. On the Tuesday following the meet-up at Sephiroth's house, one week after the two had first hooked up, they hardly noticed the drama going on around them, focusing on acting normal while at the same time sending each other knowing, loaded looks from across the room.

Zack once again showed up late—but this time long after all the food had been consumed and with a worse excuse than last time. "I got carried away talking with Aerith," he said.

"Are you kidding me?" Genesis asked, the veins in his neck bulging with repressed anger.

"Yeah." Zack shrugged. Angeal, trying to diffuse the tension, made a joke and came in to bro-hug Zack but the younger man grabbed his wrists and put his arms down to his sides before swiftly slipping past him. Angeal looked like he had been slapped.

"What's your problem, dude?" Cloud asked crossly, having given in to the temptation to lounge back against Sephiroth's chest, a glass of wine in one hand.

Zack frowned and looked at the two of them together (honestly not that unfamiliar a sight at all with this crowd) and tsked, pulling out his phone. "Nothing's my problem."

Cloud let it drop, not having it in him to care that much about what was making Zack an asshole when he was so deliriously infatuated with a man who was paying him such close attention, attention that Cloud craved from all four of these men and that he sometimes felt was lacking. Genesis was grumpy the rest of the evening and Angeal was quiet, but the other two tumbled onto Sephiroth's bed together late that night and promptly forgot all about it.

That was why they were struck so blind by what happened the _next _Tuesday.

The guilt had been mounting for sure. Very hesitantly at the dinner table over the weekend Cloud had offered what Sephiroth had been privately thinking: it was not enough, the two of them. Everything the five of them did was a team effort, always. It was not right that this latest development was not out in the open.

"Are you saying we, what," Sephiroth said, looking frustrated, "ask them to join in?"

"What?" Cloud shook his head, embarrassed. "I—that's not it! We're friends. That would be weird."

"It's not weird with you and I."

"…I guess. Do you even think they would be interested?"

Sephiroth honestly did not know.

The blond laughed, soft and a little sad, "Listen to us. This is dumb. It's…" he lowered his fork, trying to find a way to phrase what he felt at his core: "I can't live without you guys, Seph. Angeal, Gen, Zack _and _you. _Our_ friendship went to that next level, yeah? It feels like it should with the others too."

Sephiroth was quiet. Cloud, throwing up his arms, said, "But that's _weird_! I'm saying, like, the five of us should…"

"Put that way it is a little frightening." Sephiroth propped his chin up with his elbow on the table and summarized Cloud's thoughts exactly: "But is it so weird to wish that we could have the same relationship with our other friends that we have with each other?"

"No," Cloud agreed, "I guess it isn't."

On Tuesday their friends came over at eight like usual. Or, well, two of them did: Zack was nowhere to be found. Genesis flopped onto Sephiroth's couch, pissed off, and the silver-haired man sat on him and annoyed him in order to cheer him up.

"Get off me, you're heavy!"

Angeal smiled faintly at them but looked troubled; Cloud squeezed his hand and told him Zack would show up. At one point Genesis asked why Cloud's duffel bag of clothes was no longer stashed beside the couch; stuttering and avoiding Sephiroth's gaze Cloud replied that he had been sleeping in Sephiroth's room.

They had a tentative goal of revealing the fact that they had been, well, fucking to the others that evening but neither was looking forward to it. Genesis raised his eyebrows but did not seem suspicious.

"I suppose I don't blame you," he said, still trying to shake off Sephiroth who was now physically defending the honor of his favorite couch, "This hurts my ass if I sit on it too long."

"Take that back."

"Never, you brute."

Eventually Angeal had enough and pulled out his phone, dialing Zack despite nervous assurances that Zack would show this time. The other three fell quiet, watching anxiously as Angeal, stony-faced, waited for Zack to answer.

"Zack," he finally said. "Where are you?" His face morphed to confusion and anger after a moment.

"Hang on," he said, "I'm putting you on speaker."

He put his phone down on the coffee table between all of them and turned up the volume. "Repeat that for me, would you?"

A rush of static-y mic interference was Zack's drawn-out sigh. "Seriously, Angeal? Fine—I'm not coming tonight, you guys."

"What? How come?"

"I—_yeah, Aerith. It's them. I—yeah. Uh huh_. I just don't want to."

"How about a real reason, Fair," Genesis growled.

"Ugh. Hang on. _I'll be back in a few, babe. Yep._" They heard movement, Zack relocating to a place that was probably free of his girlfriend, and then he came back on: "I don't think it's a good idea. I'm sorry."

"…Why?"

"C'mon, Angeal—don't be like that. Dammit. Look, okay. Aerith and I have been talkin' a lot lately. We're getting pretty serious about getting married soon and—"

Cloud interrupted, angry, "What does that have to do with you hanging out with us?"

Evidently done with being nice and vague about it, Zack snapped, "It's not _normal_! Don't you guys get it? I'm going to get _married_, to my _girl_friend. She pointed it out to me when we were talking about why I can't propose. What we have, our friendship, it's—friends don't act like that, don't you get it?

"All the…hugging and emotions and whatever! Sometimes I feel like I'm already married to you and that's not right. I mean, hell, when I spend more time cuddling and having dinner and messing around with a group of guys instead of my girlfriend what does _that _say?"

Zack sounded slightly hysterical. Cloud, confused, looked around at his friends because there was some disconnect here—and he thought he was reading some weird dialogue between the lines of what Zack was saying—but no one else would meet his eye.

"It's not fair that I can't get married and be a dad because I'm hung up on all of you," Zack said finally, and he sounded bitter—so goddamn bitter—about it.

"What the fuck?" Cloud objected. "What kind of bullshit reasoning is—"

"Cloud," interrupted Angeal, saying it like he was a misbehaving child, staring somewhere at the blond's feet.

Still no one was looking at or agreeing with him—because something was _wrong _with what Zack was saying, that last part!—and Cloud abruptly felt very sick to realize that he was on his own here—like he always secretly knew he was. On the outside of the group looking in.

"You really think that?" Genesis asked. "We're—us—it's not normal?"

"Fuck," Zack said, sounding anguished, "It's not _good_! Otherwise why would everything be so fucked up lately?" He huffed. "Look guys—Aerith didn't want me talking to you for too long. We have to figure out some stuff. I'll—I'll talk to you soon okay? Sorry I couldn't come." Before anyone could say anything else he hung up.

No one spoke for a moment, and then Genesis stood up, striding quickly for the door. "Fine," he spat, "If this is so _wrong_ I'm leaving. Fuck Zack."

"Genesis," Cloud called, but Genesis just yelled _No! _over his shoulder and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Out of all of them Genesis was the most prone to this kind of display so Cloud focused instead on the other two to try to gauge the full impact of Zack's words. Both Angeal and Sephiroth's cheeks were flushed with shame and embarrassment.

They had all, evidently, known that their friendship had some dimension that was not typical. There was something else—and having it pointed out so starkly and framed as _wrong _and _not normal _by Zack was humiliating and painful.

So what did that mean? Cloud's physical attraction to all of them—now perverted. His emotional attachment, his absolute _adoration _for these fuckers—bad. His quiet revelation the other day, his desire to someday see their relationship transformed—preposterous. Sephiroth, sitting nearby, the man he had been having _sex _with, looked like he regretted it. Like everything they had shared in the past two weeks was making him ill. He would not look at Cloud.

"I should go," Angeal mumbled, standing up. Cloud paid no attention. The blond loved his friends with all his heart; he _needed_ _them_.

Did they not need him too?

Was it that he wasn't good enough? Why had Genesis been able to walk out so easily? Why did Sephiroth look so guilty?

The violent rage that he hid deep down, the one that scared him, was bubbling to the surface.

Cloud got to his feet and wordlessly headed for the door after Angeal who had just slipped out with a last mumbled excuse. He felt strangely detached and separate from the rest of the group; if these guys thought that he was such a throwaway guy, that they didn't need him in the same fashion—well, he could do a damn good job of trying to convince himself that he didn't need them either.

Sephiroth grabbed his wrist as he passed over the welcome mat. Cloud turned his head despite telling himself not to. Sephiroth's face was stony and impassive like it always was when he was trying to disguise any hurt.

"Cloud," he said. "Don't leave. Not you."

And the worst part was that Cloud _knew_. Watching his friends walk out, and of his own house too—that made Sephiroth's blood run cold. His new 'roommate'—the one he shared so many absurdly happy moments with in the past two weeks—Cloud leaving would devastate him.

"…Tifa," Cloud said, unable to look as Sephiroth's face contorted in pain, "I-I should go see her."

He ripped his arm out of Sephiroth's grip and ran for his motorcycle.


End file.
